


Oh, Snap

by theminiummark



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Geno POV, M/M, five things, photographer Sid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theminiummark/pseuds/theminiummark
Summary: Five times Sid takes photos of Geno and one time they forget about the camera.





	Oh, Snap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malkinmalkout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malkinmalkout/gifts).



> Inspired by Geno's photo shoot this summer and my longing for Sid as a photographer. The title is a pun that I couldn't resist. This vaguely follows canon, so take that as you will. I hope you enjoy!

One

The first thing that Geno sees of Sid is his stunning ass. He’s bent over, peering into his camera to frame a shot. Geno nervously shuffles his feet. This is his first photo session (for anything other than his roster head shot) that would be directed in English. The interview was ten times more intimidating and frustrating, but facing a camera in a body that still felt awkward and gangly outside of the rink has his nerves going into overdrive. 

Geno takes a deep breath and makes his way over to the photographer. 

He taps him on the shoulder gently, clearing his throat, hoping that would be enough and he wouldn’t have to try and muddle through with his limited English. 

The photographer turns quickly with the tap, and Geno only has a moment to recognize that he is younger than he was expecting, before the bright hazel eyes light up and his mouth stretches into a smile.

“Hi, Evgeni Malkin, right?” He says, reaching out with his hand to shake Geno’s. Geno blushes a bit when he catches Sid checking him out. 

“You are much taller than I was expecting,” follows the intense overview he was just given. “But that’s great, actually, more to work with. Oh - Christ, I’m sorry. I’m Sid. Sidney Crosby. I’ll be shooting you today.”

Geno could feel his face morphing into the facial equivalent of a question mark. He at least gets one thing out of this. Sid. His name is Sid. 

Still thinking over the introduction, he misses the rest of what Sid says and promptly finds himself hustled to change and forced to endure a round of hair and makeup.

Soon enough, he ends up under the lights and on the other end of the lense of Sid’s camera. When Sid brings all of his focus on him, he finds himself held captive and compelled like never before to fulfill the vision that Sid wanted to evoke. He melts into Sid’s voice and lets him lead him, more by tone than any actual words. 

When he walks away from the shoot, he's shaking with fatigue and an anxious euphoria. He has never felt this way about a person before. Sid’s parting words keep repeating in his head.

“Evgeni, you did great,” Sid says. “And you are really a pleasure to work with. I hope to see you again?”

“Yes,” is all the Geno could manage, caught up in the thought that he would very much like to see Sid again, too. 

Two

After those few precious hours with Sid, Geno’s curiosity gets the better of him. He searches the internet for him, stumbling on Sid’s website through a convoluted series of links from Google.

He's captivated anew by the photos he finds. Sid specializes in sports photography, but his perspective is different every time. 

Geno spends a good amount of time going through the portfolio, eyes catching on different details and wondering how Sid could have gotten some of these shots. 

Then he starts back in surprise. The next photo was of him. He’s skating, fast and sharp toward the goal during one of the world championship games. He remembers that moment, the feeling of aggression and anticipation as he sets up for a perfect goal. 

Sid has captured it perfectly. In this moment, looking at this picture of himself, Geno truly feels as though Sid understands him in a way that no one has ever had before. He knows the feeling of flying down the ice, the joy and accomplishment of leading your team to victory, one hard hit and puck battle at a time. 

In that one shot, one instance, Geno could see Sid wanting to share that with the world. Geno feels a little sheepish that Sid uses his image to convey such a powerful statement, but ultimately he feels kinship, a bond normally felt through teammates.

Geno hopes he is able to see Sid again. 

Three

Geno’s next opportunity to meet Sid comes at the beginning of his sophomore season. He’s asked to do an interview with Alex. The media seems to run with this narrative of two country men, rivals trying to bring glory to their homeland on NHL ice. 

He scoffs when he’s first asked by Barry to do the interview, not wanting to make it easy for the media to get what they want. Alex and he may be rivals, but they were professionals! Not this...enmity on the ice nonsense. 

Then he hears who will be taking the photos and changes his mind. 

Maybe it won’t be so bad if Sid is there. 

+++++

He has never been so wrong in his life. Alex is all over Sid, smiling at him, touching him on the shoulder or the arm or his back as he talks. Acting like a puppy sniffing after its master half the time, and flirting outrageously the rest. The rumors of their bitter rivalry fuel into full on truth the longer the shoot goes on. 

The very worst part, though, is how Sid reacts to Alex. He’s pleased and bashful, flirting back with little teases and smiles. Geno seethes in jealousy, cursing his lack of English and Alex’s natural charisma. He finds it impossible to relax, tension filling his body. He just wants to get this over with and forget Sid and pound Alex’s face into the ice - 

“Evgeni, everything okay?”

Sid’s voice cuts through the fury building in his mind. He’s been pulled aside by Sid, who is looking at him closely, a little furrow between his brows and his lips pursed. 

Geno nods his head, trying to let it all go with a long exhale, but he catches sight of Alex from the corner of his eye and he feels a glare steal across his face. 

“Ah,” says Sid, his eyes twinkling a little when his expression lightens. “So the rivals rumor is true then?” 

Geno huffs out a sullen “no” that sounds even more convincing than if he had said yes. Sid leans in, talking low, “Don’t worry, you are much better on the ice. Can’t look away when you have the puck.”

He steps back with a wry smile, one side of his mouth tilting up mischievously. Geno helplessly returns the smile, relaxing when Sid directs them back into positions, snapping several more shots before calling it a wrap. 

Geno feels the best he has all day. Sid likes him best. The thought carries him through a thrashing win over Washington the first time they meet that season. 

Four

Geno can’t stop thinking about Sid. He curses the fact that he hadn’t the courage or the thought to ask for Sid’s number. He spends a some lonely nights on the road, thinking that things would seem better if he could just talk to Sid, hear his voice. Then spends his daylight hours cursing himself for pining after a man he’s met twice. 

But, on a night spent out with the team, filled with a little too much drinking and not enough company, Geno finds himself in front of his laptop, clicking through Sid’s online portfolio again. It happens often now, so much so that it’s become a habit. 

His inhibitions three shots and as many beers gone, he clicks on the contact us tab. He fills in the open fields as best as he can, and in the comment box he goes wild. 

It probably doesn’t make much sense, but Geno wants to see Sid again so badly. So...he invites Sid to Pittsburgh. For a private photo session. Before his reasoning can catch up, he hits send, falling back against the pillows of his bed, barely remembering to close his laptop and put it on the bedside table. He’s lost to dreams shortly after.

+++++

“Allo?” Geno slurs into the phone the next morning. 

“Is this Evgeni? Evgeni Malkin?”

Geno bolts upright at the unmistakable sound of Sid’s voice on the other end of the phone. He has no idea what to say, so all that slips out is a soft and shaky, “da?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” Sid sounds flustered now. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t even check the time. I can call back?”

By now, Geno’s gathered his wits and is contradicting Sid, “No, no. ‘s fine. How can I help?”

“Um, well, I think I should be asking that?” Sid sounds terribly amused and Geno is so lost. 

+++++

Geno paces the lobby of the Pens practice facility nervously. While he is ecstatic that he gets to see Sid again, this time just the two of them, he’s also terrified out of his mind that he might fuck this up somehow. Resisting the urge to check his phone for the upteenth time, he jerks around when he hears the doors open. 

And there he is, cheeks red from the cold, eyes twinkling from his smile. Geno feels his anxiousness melt into shy excitement. He still doesn’t know the right words to say in this moment, but he’s lucky, because Sid doesn’t seem to need them. 

“Hi, Geno! You ready to get started?”

Geno grins and nods, leading the way to the locker room. He’s still not completely sure how he turned his disaster of a drunken proposition on Sid’s website had turned into a private photoshoot, but he’s glad that he and Sid had the chance to speak over the phone and through email in the last few weeks. 

Sid’s excitement over the challenge, as he put it, over Geno’s request has gone a long way to ease Geno’s awkwardness of having asked in the first place. 

Now, sitting in the stands and tapping sticks, he lets Sid’s voice wash over him as he gives him subtle directions and soft encouragement. He feels almost like he’s floating, except that Sid’s keen eyes keep him grounded enough to admire Sid’s focus and care. 

It’s a heady feeling, being the center of all that attention, especially when it’s just the two of them. Geno would love to get used to this. 

They spend a few hours, moving from taping sticks, to tying skates, to shots of Geno flying across the ice, to pucks hitting the net. It is one of the most relaxing and invigorating afternoons Geno has had in a long time. 

Riding the wave of contentment, Geno has enough courage to ask Sid to dinner, and then later, to kiss him good-night when he drops Sid off at his hotel. The startled, yet pleased smile Sid gives him tides him over until he gets home and his phone rings with Sid on the other end.

Five

The next few years are filled with hockey and Sid. Their relationship grows in between deep runs into the playoffs, training, and photoshoots. Geno spends the summer after their loss in the cup finals training, wallowing a bit, and trailing along with Sid to some of his Summer Olympics sessions. 

Watching Sid in his element never gets boring. His voice as he directs a shoot and the amazing perspective he has, make Geno a little more besotted each time. They part ways when Sid heads out to Beijing and Geno goes home to Pittsburgh. He has a good feeling about this season, though. 

He listens to Sid on the other side of the world, telling him about the shots he got that day, and only feels hope to what this next year will bring. 

+++++

When the seconds tick down and then everyone is scrambling over the boards to get on the ice, Geno only screams his joy to the world. He can’t believe it’s real. 

They won. They won the Stanley Cup. 

Coming up for air from the press and pull of his teammates, he looks around the ice for the one other person he wants to celebrate with the most. The first he sees of him is the lense of his favorite camera, then his shining eyes and the widest smile he has seen on Sid’s face. 

Geno cups his head as he pulls him close in an embrace, the most he dares for right now, only able to breathe out Sid’s name in wonderment. 

“Congratulations, Geno,” Sid murmurs, delighted on Geno’s behalf. “You did it.”

They pull back a bit, and Sid did the most uncharacteristic thing so far: he brings up his camera, turning it around to frame them in the shot, and snaps a quick shot of them both. 

Later, when they are looking through photos to have up on Geno’s cup day, they come across this photo and Geno decides to keep it for himself. While Geno is smiling in dazed joyous disbelief at the camera, Sid is looking at him.

Plus One

Geno wakes to the soft click of the shutter going off. He smiles, opening one eye to catch sight of Sid, kneeling next to the bed, elbows propping up his camera as he refocuses and snaps another photo of Geno. 

Geno huffs out a laugh, raising a brow in question.

“I couldn’t help it,” Sid says sheepishly, letting the camera fall enough for Geno to see his face. “You’re captivating when you sleep.”

Geno preens at the praise, blushing a little at Sid’s open admiration. His blush deepens in arousal, though, when Sid gets up and sets the camera on the tripod in the corner of the room, not hiding its positioning, nor his lack of clothes as he moves about the room, naked as they were when they went to bed last night. 

Geno rolls to his back as Sid stalks up the bed, straddling Geno, before leaning down to kiss him deeply. Geno arches up into Sid, letting his hands wander over all that wonderful skin. As his eyes slip shut with the sensual sensations brought by Sid’s hands and his mouth, he manages to hear another click as the camera catches them in their barest of moments. 

They keep those photos to themselves, too. 


End file.
